


Stray

by sue_dreams (raegan_1)



Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, knowing!Martha, mutant cats, obsessed!Lex, secret reveal, shapeshifting!Clark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-30
Updated: 2009-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-29 16:32:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raegan_1/pseuds/sue_dreams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark is getting past his summer in Metropolis, but trouble is capable of finding him anywhere, in any guise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shopping like... the wolf?

**Author's Note:**

> I used the dates the episodes aired as assistance in determining a 'timeline' for events in and prior to the story. Betaed and reposted here as of Dec 30, 2009. Banner created by the fabulous [](http://ctbn60.livejournal.com/profile)[**ctbn60**](http://ctbn60.livejournal.com/). Thanks to Beta M and [](http://lonetread.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lonetread.livejournal.com/)**lonetread** for fantastic, repeated beta services.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smallville high plans its Halloween party, Clark and his friends go shopping for costumes, and the feline population of Smallville starts its coup.

  
[](http://sue-dreams.livejournal.com/3576.html#cutid1)   
  


  
**October 17th, 2003. Friday.**

The Smallville High Dance Committee consisted of three cheerleaders, their boyfriends, two drama club members, and a Korean exchange student who nodded his head a lot, bangs flopping against his forehead. The nine of them had arrived at the castle an hour after school let out for the afternoon, beating Clark and his produce delivery by half an hour.

"I can't believe you opened the castle for this." Clark's sideways smile was the brightest it had been in a while. His eyes moved back to his peers, as they stretched across the length of the ballroom with half a dozen measuring tapes.

"Only the ballroom, Clark," Lex murmured. He smoothed his left hand over his shirt before putting both hands in his pockets. Keeping his hands to himself had become a task of increasing difficulty. "This place has felt empty of late."

Clark flashed him a sympathetic look, but he remained silent long enough for Lex to have considered and discarded several topic changes. "You're welcome at the farm whenever you get lonely."

 _Lonely_ was not the word he would have used, but Lex let it pass. He turned toward the open doorway. "I appreciate the invitation."

They left the committee members to their work. His office was a pleasant sanctuary, quiet and well-ordered. Clark moved toward the furniture in front of the fireplace and came to a standstill, looking around in surprise. "You've redecorated."

Lex finished his trek across the office and retrieved two bottles of water from the fridge. "I thought it was time. When Lucas took over the office earlier this year, I simply had his things removed and mine set to rights." He gestured toward the television. "With exceptions, of course. Helen's absence called for a more... radical change. A departure of the old ways."

Surprise, confusion, and more sympathy flashed across the boy's face. "If this is your idea of radical, Smallville's affected you more than you've let on." It wasn't a bad attempt at a joke, but Lex eyed Clark silently, enjoying the flush that crept up his neck and spread across his cheeks. "I mean, you didn't paint the entire room in purples or add a, uh, pole."

"In 1878, a captain in the Chicago Fire Department convinced his chief to let him make the necessary hole. He and his company were the laughingstock of the town until they realized this captain and his men were often first on the scene." Clark started to relax as Lex avoided the other possible reference. "Pole-dancing didn't become a fad until the 1960s."

The boy was so easy to rile. Gone was any trace of sympathy, replaced by silent chastisement. "Thanks for the history lesson, Lex," Clark said flatly.

Lex's smile refused to be hidden. "You're always welcome." He moved back to Clark's side long enough to hand him the second bottle of water before dropping on his new two-seater. "The change is not necessarily radical because of the choices implemented, but simply because those changes exist at all. Also, I didn't pass the task on to an employee. I chose this sofa, Clark. I walked into a store and sat down on every couch and sofa in their inventory."

"That _is_ amazing," Clark teased. He sat on the matching sofa opposite Lex and leaned back against the dark brown upholstery. His eyes closed in relaxation, his enjoyment obvious. "This sofa is amazing, too."

"I'm glad you're impressed, since it took me three stores to find it." Clark's eyes flew open. "There are a lot of sofas in the world." He raised his bottle in toast to his find, pretending to ignore Clark's laughter.

* * *

**October 18th, 2003. Saturday.**

"This is not your typical Smallville costume party. A real Halloween party requires a real costume," Chloe insisted. She led the way up the sidewalk and stopped in front of a wide glass window proudly displaying the name 'Carvin Cutter's Costumes.'

Clark and Pete stopped behind her and shared a smile. Before Chloe had demanded they make the trip to Granville for costumes, Clark had been happy to let his mother make his. Then Chloe and Pete had cornered him at the Torch office after school, and he'd lost any control of his afternoon plans.

She gripped the handle and turned to fix them with a determined look. "Rule one: you will try on any costume I throw at you. Rule two: no sheet-ghosts. Rule three-"

Pete spoke over her, drowning out her own words as he put a hand over hers and opened the door. "'Get Chloe's approval before buying anything.' You know, Chloe, this'll go a lot faster if we can actually see the costumes."

"Fine," she snapped. "Pick whatever you want. You can both be the horse's rear-end for all I care."

Clark put a hand on her back and guided her under Pete's arm before holding the door and waving Pete through. "We'll do our best not to embarrass you." Anything else he might have said died in his throat as he stepped in after them and got a look at what a real costume shop had to offer.

"Wow," Pete said succinctly. Clark's mouth opened in wordless agreement. They lifted their chins as one to get a look at the second floor balcony. The building hadn't seemed quite so big on the outside, but inside they could see it was easily three times the size of the Talon. Bulging racks of costumes and accessories crushed the walkways into narrow, shadowy lanes between them.

There was an exceptionally bright display holding masquerade masks, the kinds they would see on television during Mardi Gras or in the Phantom of the Opera's masked ball. Clark's attraction to the mix of bright and dark colors was immediate, but Chloe caught her charges by either arm and tugged them toward the curved staircase leading to the second floor.

"It's not that kind of dance, either," she informed him happily. Apparently, their awe was all that was required to lift her out of her snippy mood. "I know we're still shopping on a Smallville budget, and the discount costumes are up here."

The overhead lights were bright enough to reflect rows of sequins and beads, but the density of the costumes was such that the floors under almost all the racks were shadowed. Clark decided it had the kind of creepy atmosphere he expected for a Halloween shop.

"Look around, try to think outside the box of serial killers with bad masks and Dracula. And for crying out loud, stay away from anything that comes with a full-face mask." With that, Chloe disappeared between two of the racks, into the wilderness of the costumes. Clark used his x-ray vision to follow her skeleton for a few feet, before deciding there was a limited amount of trouble even she could find. He turned toward Pete, but found only empty space where his friend had been. On inspection, he found Pete's skeleton making its way around the row nearest the back wall.

Clark shrugged and took a look around at the costumes. There were a lot of dark colors; werewolves and ghouls, vampire capes and assorted cloaks. There were also sections of brightness: sheet-ghosts, of course, mixed in with striped prisoner costumes and orange pumpkins.

He gave a half-smile as he passed by a rather slutty-looking nurses costume, followed by a cat costume with a respectable amount of clothing. Igors and serial killers, clothes torn and bloodied for zombies. A slew of animal costumes, from penguins to what Clark swore was supposed to be an emu. He rounded the end of a rack and nearly ran into Chloe.

"Find anything?" she asked. She'd already found several costumes.

Lying would have been pointless, as his hands were completely empty. "Not yet."

"You're supposed to be finding a costume," she reminded him. She set her own selection down on an empty chair half-hidden against the wall, and then set to work. Clark said nothing as she bypassed clothes meant for Frankenstein's monster; a Dracula's Bride set; complete with fake teeth; and a set of Jedi robes.

"How about this?" she asked, pulling a costume out by the hanger. There were several pieces, the largest by far being a furry cape topped with what Clark sincerely hoped was a fake wolf's head. The rest of the costume seemed to be little more than a loincloth and a bracelet, made with leather thongs, rock, and fur.

Clark reached a hand out to the cape and ended up with the bracelet in his grip. The amulet that served as a centerpiece was hard as a rock and warm to the touch. The fur that covered it shimmered in the overhead lights, making it look as if it were glowing. It felt funny against his palm, almost ticklish. Not painful, though, and he didn't feel the sudden urge to run away to Metropolis again.

"It's a furry rock." Clark let it drop, unsettled by the feel of it in his hand. "And an ugly furry costume."

"You could be a druid. Or a Native American shaman." She tossed the cloak over his head, and Clark winced as the teeth of the upper jaw came to rest against his forehead. He was lucky it hadn't broken.

"This isn't very politically correct," he pointed out.

"Whatever," she sniped. "Don't forget this." She grabbed his arm and slid the accompanying bracelet over his hand and up his arm. The furry amulet rested against the inside of his forearm. "I like it."

"I'd freeze in this," he objected. He made no reference to her wanting him to walk around half-naked. Their friendship hadn't mended to that point, yet. He took the cloak off and put it back over the hanger. He was going to say more, get the bracelet off, but then he was caught by the glassy stare of the cloak-wolf's eyes.

Distantly, he heard Chloe say something, but he couldn't reply. His vocal chords weren't working properly. Nothing was.

* * *

"Looking good!" Pete called.

Chloe curtsied in her princess costume, and did a spin in front of the mirror between the fitting rooms. "Isn't it great? You couldn't find something like this in Smallville."

"And do I pass muster, your highness?" Pete gave a low, awkward bow. The knight costume was a good complement to Chloe's Renaissance dress, though the top wasn't the right size for Pete. He had to hold one hand to his chest to make sure the armor didn't slide up his neck.

Chloe bit back a laugh. "You do, kind sir." She turned back to the mirror and took in the picture they made. "Now, we just need Clark to dress up with us, and we'll have a theme." She looked around, but the other costumes hid Clark from her view. "You find Clark and I'll see what we have in the way of dragons."

Pete's surprise was sweet. "You don't want to dress him up as a prince?"

Her laugh was harsh, but couldn't hold it back. She did better at keeping the bitterness out of her voice. "Please. Any princess worth her tiara will go for the hero who won't disappear when it comes time for the ball."

"So, where is Clark?" Pete asked, dodging her implication.

"I don't know," she said, letting him off the hook. "I left him over by the animal suits."

"Do you hear that?" Pete asked, his head tilting suddenly.

"Hear wha-" 'That' was a soft whimpering. Chloe took a cautious step in the direction it was coming from and felt her heart stick in her throat. "That's where I left Clark."

"Is he over there? This isn't funny, man," Pete called, pulling the plastic sword out of its scabbard. He tried to step in front of her, but Chloe refused to cower. Princess costume or not, she wasn't anyone's damsel in distress.

Together, they crept around the end of a rack and started up the aisle. The light directly overhead was dim, and Chloe hoped it was just an old bulb that had blown. On the floor, there was a mass that looked more animal than human, but Chloe called Clark's name anyway.

The figure shifted and stretched out, revealing that it definitely wasn't human. It whimpered again and stepped toward them, eyes shining in the dark. Glowing, in fact, as there wasn't enough light at that level to be a reflection.

"Oh, god." Chloe backed into Pete, and they toppled backwards together in a clatter of armor and a pool of chiffon. The wolf whined low in its throat before it dipped its head, turned away, and sped into the racks. They stayed frozen by silent agreement. After a few minutes, when it hadn't returned, Chloe rolled off of Pete and sat heavily beside him. "See. No Clark, while you and I were facing down the Big Bad Wolf."

Pete's laugh was shaky. "Lot of help I was, though." He got to his feet and then offered Chloe a hand up.

"You broke my fall." She smiled at him, though it was weak. "And you were here. It's better than being scared alone, I think." She straightened up the costume. "Come on. Let's get changed, find Clark, and get out of here. Assuming the wolf hasn't gotten to him."

"Clark can take care of himself." The words were too shaken to be believable.

Chloe nodded, but she made no move toward the dressing room. "Pete... was that wolf carrying Clark's clothes in its mouth?"

* * *

His speed was still there, whether he was running on four legs or two. Four legs actually seemed to be faster, though Clark couldn't accurately judge if his speed had increased, or if the change in perspective only made it seem that way. It was unlikely he'd have a chance to test the theory, though.

Downstairs, there were more people than had been there when they'd arrived, and Clark dodged them as the bitter scent returned, magnified by the number of people. Fear. He took advantage of customers entering the shop to disappear out the door. He hoped Chloe and Pete didn't worry when they realized he was no longer in the shop.

It was instinct that led Clark away from the main thoroughfare and onto some side streets. He'd hesitated when he passed Chloe's car, but he didn't think she'd appreciate him waiting for her and Pete in his current form. Not until he could communicate with them.

His color vision was distorted, but Clark could still read. Finding the road to Smallville was a matter of a few minutes. From there, it was a quick run to and down the main street. He slowed down several fields away from the farm. His father wasn't likely to shoot on sight, other than a warning shot, but it came back down to the problem of communicating.

Movement to his right alerted Clark to the fact that he wasn't alone. There was a group of cats a hundred yards to the side, pulling up around him in a loose formation. A chill ran down Clark's back. The presence of his speed seemed a good sign that he had all his powers, which meant cats couldn't hurt him, but there was something unnerving about the way they watched him.

He sat down, and watched as his pursuers sat down as well. They stood when he stood, and began walking when he did, though their path angled toward him instead of running parallel.

Ridiculous. He was letting cats creep him out. Clark dropped his clothes from his mouth and moved towards the cats, trying to remember what dogs did to show aggression. He growled, baring his teeth.

Instead of running, the cats hissed back, their fur rising as they approached. Worse than their reaction was the feeling that grew as he approached. Not just dread, but a too-familiar weakness and pain. One of the cats turned its head, and the afternoon sun made its eyes shine green.

Clark turned away, from the cats and the farm both, and ran. It took few yards of extra distance and a few seconds to recover before his superspeed returned, but when it did, he left the cats far behind.

* * *

Jonathon was over two hours late for lunch when he finally returned from the field. Alerted by the sound of his boots on the steps, Martha fetched the leftovers from the oven and fixed his plate. He gave her a kiss on the cheek as she was setting his plate down. "Where's Clark?"

"Shopping," she answered. She waited while he took a bite of steak, then moved back to the sink when he looked at her questioningly.

"Shopping for what? Don't tell me the boy needs more school clothes already."

She ignored his half-hearted grumble as she poured him a mug of coffee and took the seat across from him at the little table. "He's in Granville, finding a costume for the dance this Friday."

The only thing that stopped Jonathon from voicing an immediate protest at the prospect was the food in his mouth. Martha crossed her arms on the table and gave her husband a determined look.

"I can't begin to tell you how proud I was of you for accepting Lex's offer, and for agreeing to call him family." She reached out for his hand, and he wove his fingers in between hers, his expression going from annoyed to suspicious.

He swallowed his food. "I sense a 'but'." He picked up his mug and took a drink.

"We've seen a lot of changes in Clark. His abilities, his attitude." Her husband was looking at her with an amazing amount of patience, given the beginning of the conversation, and she smiled at him proudly. "We haven't always handled his secrets the best we could, but we've learned. We've adapted."

"Is he getting a new power?" he asked, concerned. "Should he be in town if something else is cropping up?"

She shook her head and forced herself to present the same calm she wanted Jonathon to feel. "It's nothing like that," she assured him. There was a possibility it was a power, and not what she suspected, but Clark would have surely gone to them if that was the case. "I spoke to Lana. Clark has apparently made it clear that friendship is the closest they'll ever get again."

"Is that what this is about?" Jonathon stared at her for a moment longer before chuckling. He pulled his hand away in order to cut up his steak. "You had me worried, Martha. So he's having second thoughts about his first love. He'll like other girls."

"He didn't stay for us, Jonathon. He's not staying for Lana. I think he's staying in Smallville for Lex." She waited for his response, but his expression never moved beyond expectancy. Sometimes, the man she married could be so dense. "I don't know that there will other be another _girl_."

His fork clattered against the plate. "You think our son is-"

* * *

Lex picked his cell phone up as the symphonic ring tone reached its crescendo. He checked the number before accepting the call. "Hello, Clark."

There was a pause, then a light clearing of throat. "Not quite, Lex."

"Mrs. Kent. To what do I owe this pleasure?" He left the penthouse office behind and returned to the kitchen, where his dinner was still waiting for him.

"Have you heard from Clark today?" she asked. Her tone was carefully controlled, but Lex could hear the edge of worry in it.

"No, not today. He and I spoke yesterday afternoon, then he left to return to the farm. He did make it home, didn't he?" If Clark hadn't made it home... Lex had heard enough about the events during his absence to know to worry. Hell, he'd been around Smallville long enough to panic.

"He did, thank you, Lex. I'm sorry for calling out of the blue." Her pretense of composure was more worrying than if she'd broken down or admitted to bad news.

Lex tapped a finger on the counter, and forced his tone to echo hers. "Is everything okay?"

"It's fine," she said lightly. "I'll have Clark give you a call when he gets back from his shopping trip."

"Thank you. I look forward to his call," Lex said smoothly. He waited for her to hang up on her end before dialing the number for the mansion. "What time did Martha Kent call?"

"Just a few minutes ago, Mr. Luthor. As instructed, I gave her the number for your mobile when she refused to wait for the call to be transferred to the penthouse. Did the lady reach you?"

"She did, thank you. Alert the staff to my return this evening. Have a meal waiting. I'll likely be in Smallville for the remainder of the weekend." Or until he had rooted out the cause of Martha Kent's worry. He hung up and left his uneaten dinner for the staff to dispose of.

* * *

"Are you sure his parents aren't mad at us?" Chloe asked. She and Pete had spent half an hour searching the costume shop before Carvin Cutter himself had shown up and shooed them off the premises. They'd found Clark's shoes and a sock, but no sign of the boy. Or the wolf.

"Mrs. Kent was cool. There weren't-" _Any meteor rocks_ , he didn't finish. He shot her a look. "She said she didn't think it was him running away again. Probably just a normal Clark disappearance. We'll probably get back to Smallville to find out Lana has a new boyfriend and Clark hitch-hiked back to spy on 'em."

Chloe's answering laughter was bitter, and Pete barely resisted the urge to press into the passenger seat. It's not like he could sink all the way through the upholstery and disappear, anyway. He wasn't that lucky.

"I'm amazed sometimes that Clark manages to attend school. It's like all the drama he gets caught up in waits for the last bell to ring." She accelerated to get around a semi, and the fear clawing in Pete's chest kept him silent.

They swung back into the right-most lane and Pete looked back to see the semi growing smaller as they sped away from it. He refused to look at the speedometer. "So, we check on Lana first, and then what?"

"Then Lex," she said, full of certainty. "If something's going on in Smallville, it's either happening around Lana, Lex, or the Kents, and they were fine when you called."

"Right." His right hand gripped tightly around the arm rest. "Do you think maybe it's a good idea that we get there in one piece?"

* * *

He couldn't get back to the farm. Every time he tried to approach it from another direction, he found cats. There were at least a dozen of them, fast, sneaky, and after him personally, or so it seemed. He'd worried they were surrounding the farm on purpose, but they kept him from other places, like the school and the Talon.

More frightening than the kryptonite they seemed to carry was the way they were targeting him. They moved like they were part of a hive mind, and Clark couldn't think of anything scarier than smart, psychic cats.

He was going to be clawed to death, an event that wasn't surprising by Smallville standards. Yesterday, Clark would have told anyone who asked that he'd never feared the cat population of Smallville before. The warning would have been nice.

On a circuit around the outer edge of the town's limits, Clark's nose picked up a new odor. He liked the heightened sense of smell he had as a wolf. It made avoiding the cats easier, once he'd learned their smell. The new scent was more familiar, safe in a way he and his senses couldn't identify until he'd wiggled into the bushes at the edge of the road and come nose to nose with a puppy.

The pup's eyes shone in the dim evening light. Clark felt his body shift again, but the change was shorter than the last time, a lowering of his body to the ground. The pup yipped at Clark and licked at him eagerly until Clark mimicked the gesture.

It had a long scratch down its side and it was frightened, but a hasty sweep of x-ray vision showed that it was otherwise okay. But its blood smelled strongly, masking the approach of the cat until it was upon them. All Clark saw was a flash of green eyes before its claws took a chunk out of Clark's hide.

He yipped at the flare of pain, the burning agony crept down his foreleg even as Clark clumsily backed toward the road, slower– too slow– than he wanted to move. The puppy moved with him, barely protected by Clark's furry body.

Like a nightmare, the tabby crept closer, its face split in a feral grin. He stood on shaky legs and growled, trying for intimidation. Headlights moved over them as a car rounded the curve in the distance. Clark darted toward the puppy, using his mouth to pick it up by the scruff before fleeing toward the car.

The cat stalked them closely, dragging at Clark's strength and speed. It waited until the car was almost upon them before going for Clark's legs again. He stumbled into the path of the car and it swerved, tires squealing against the pavement. The cat pounced and Clark dropped the pup as he rolled to intercept the beast.

He managed to toss it several feet back, but like the meteor-affected people Clark had fought, its changes seemed to include extra strength and durability. It was back in an instant, and no matter how hard Clark tried to throw it away, it returned.

"What-?" There was a shape in the darkness, unrecognizable at first as it picked the cat up by the scruff of its neck. There was a hiss as the cat twisted and attacked Clark's savior. There was a curse. This time, when the cat was released, it ran away.

There was something familiar about the voice and the shadowy form.

* * *

Jonathon loved his wife and her apple pie, but her tendency to feed people when she was worried was going to catch up with him some day.

Pete apparently agreed, as he spread a bit more apple filling over his plate instead of taking a bite. "If he's back in Metropolis, what are we gonna do?" Pete asked.

Jonathon frowned. It was impossible to ignore the boy when there was nothing else in the kitchen to distract him. He didn't want to think about tracking his son down again. The memory of Jor-El's power coursing through him, the resulting weakness he'd felt in its absence, was mad worse for the injuries he'd sustained.

"He's not," Martha said firmly. Jonathon reached over to put a hand on her shoulder, glad she was denying that possibility as well. "Chloe's probably right. Clark just felt something was wrong in Smallville, and he came back to stop it."

"But there's nothing wrong," Pete said agitatedly, rising.

Jonathon reached over to push him gently back into his seat. "Nothing we've seen or heard, but Clark has always known how to find trouble, even when no one else knew it existed." How long had Pete remained oblivious before the spaceship's discovery had forced Clark to tell him?

He didn't want to think about Clark's powers and origins being revealed. Morgan Edge had come too close and it had almost cost their son. The possibility was too real that others had noticed, that Clark could be followed and threatened and stolen from them.

"What if the wolf wasn't a threat?" Martha asked, her tone one that made it clear she was questioning her own sanity.

"What?" Pete asked around a mouthful of food.

Her hands twisted a dish towel and her voice shook, but her eyes were steady. "It didn't move to hurt you, and it's unlikely a wolf scared Clark away. The fact that it was there with his clothes might mean... Well. It might mean the wolf _was_ Clark. Or he was the wolf."

There was a heavy silence, one that Jonathon couldn't bring himself to break until Martha's gaze threatened to turn into a glare. "You think our son turned into a wolf and... what, went off to join a pack?"

"It depends on how much control he has over it. Pete said it didn't hurt them, or any of the other people it ran past as it left the store." She folded the towel and set it aside. Jonathon recognized her determined expression. "If he doesn't come home soon, I think we need to go out and look for him. And we need to widen our scope when we do."

There wasn't a lot Jonathon could say to that, not when Martha was so set on it. He nodded. "Okay. Let's figure out our plan of action. What areas do we want to cover first?"

To himself, he wondered what was next. First Martha tried to tell him their son was gay, then that he's a wolf. Next, she'd be telling him Clark was actually a human all along, and the powers were as much a phase as liking girls had been.

* * *

Lex pulled up in front of the mansion and got out of the car. He pushed the seat forward. "Come on. We're home." Two furry heads lifted to look at him, but neither the mother nor her pup budged. "You can't sit in the car all night."

They'd been easier to get into the car, though they'd both moved stiffly. Worried, Lex braced his knee on the edge of the driver's seat and reached in for the pup. It whimpered softly, but neither dog bit at him as he lifted it out. The wound on its side was dirty and should be seen by a vet.

He ignored the mother as he stood up and moved toward the mansion. After a moment, it saw fit to get itself out of the car and follow him. Enrique opened the mansion door before Lex even attempted to knock, and he strode past the long-time retainer with what dignity he could manage, being dirty and carrying an even dirtier dog.

"I'm glad to see you've arrived, sir."

"See what type of veterinary services are offered in Smallville, and then get someone here." The bigger dog trotted past him and down the hall. The pup wiggled, and then followed once Lex had put it down. Lex ignored his own state of disarray,which was easy in the face of Enrique's stoicism. "Bring a set of clean clothes to the first floor study. Preferably something from the back of the closet. And set up one of the bathrooms for dog grooming."

The dogs had disappeared. Lex followed where he had last seen them and when he caught up with the pair, they were both seated in front of the door to the room he'd chosen for entertaining them.

"Smart, aren't you?" Lex said as he opened the door. "Don't get too cozy. Enrique is going to see about getting you a vet and a bath, not necessarily in that order."

He tossed his coat over the back of a chair. The dark-paneled room housed new furniture, all chosen during his shopping trip to Smallville's furniture stores. The leather chairs matched the sofas he'd had placed in his office, and the end tables had been chosen to go with the cherry hardwood paneling. Like most other rooms in the castle, it came complete with a fireplace and a thick rug in front of it.

The mother dog moved toward the sofas, then bypassed them to make a circuit around the room, her whelp following. She ended up back at the fireplace, and the two laid down together.

Lex unbuttoned his ruined shirt and left it overtop his coat. His undershirt wasn't a decent barrier against the chill of the room, but Enrique thankfully chose that moment to knock on the door and enter. "Your clothes."

"Thank you, Enrique. Put them on my desk. The vet?"

"There are no practices open at this hour on a Saturday in Smallville. There was a doctor in Metropolis, however, who agreed to drive in this evening. Was there anything else, Mr. Luthor?"

Lex sat next to the dogs and inspected the pups side again. He could at least start cleaning it with water while they waited. He tried to inspect the mother, but she shifted away from him. "A bowl of water. Has there has been a call from the Kents?"

Enrique was already halfway to the door. "There's been no contact from the Kents. Would you like me to send in someone to assist you?"

"I've got it." Lex smiled as the pup licked the back of his hand. "Bring something for them to eat, too."

* * *

"Kent Farms," Martha answered. Pete and Jonathon watched on hopefully.

The voice that responded wasn't Clark's. "Hello, Mrs. Kent."

She tamped down on her disappointment and forced a smile on her face. "Lex. How can I help you?"

"I was just calling to let you know I've arrived back in Smallville." There was a slight pause and a sound that may have been a dog bark. "I thought it would save Clark time later, if you knew where to find me."

"That's very thoughtful." The barking came again, this time sounding more insistent. "Is that a... dog?" She pressed a hand to her chest, overwhelmed suddenly by hope and certainty.

Lex chuckled into the phone. "It is. Two of them, in fact. I found the pair on the outskirts of Smallville. Bohemian shepherds, looks like mother and son, though... Oh, well. Father and son, maybe." He sounded somewhat discomfited, but he didn't offer how he'd figured out the difference in gender.

"Where did you find them?" she asked. Pete and Jonathon sat up a little straighter at her tone, and there was another pause on Lex's end. She cleared her throat, and tried to eliminate anything suspicious from her voice. "Jonathon and I would love to help you find the proper owners."

"Of course, Mrs. Kent. I found them near County Farm Road, near the junction for Granville and Metropolis. There was a cat there... it looked like it was attacking them." There was more barking, clearer this time, and Lex's laughter sounded surprised. Genuine. "I think someone else wants to speak with you."

"Is that the... father?" The men in her kitchen frowned in confusion, but Lex's agreement decided her. "I'll be over shortly, Lex."

His laughter vanished. "You don't have to do that, Martha. The vet won't even arrive for a couple more hours."

"Please, I'd like to help." She hesitated, aware that her insistence would be suspicious. She forced herself to offer, "Unless it's inconvenient for you."

"Not at all," he replied immediately. "Would you like me to send a car?"

Jonathon wouldn't like it, but he would also need the truck to go looking for Clark. "Yes, please. That would be lovely."

"It will be there shortly." Another pause heavy with silence. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent. Good-bye."

"Bye, Lex." She hung up the phone and settled back in her seat before addressing her husband and Pete. "Lex rescued two dogs. One was injured. The other was protecting it."

By the look on Jonathon and Pete's faces, she was the only one who understood the significance of that. "Dogs, Martha. Not wolves," Jonathon said softly. He was following her logic, at least, but it wasn't enough.

She sighed. "Call it a mother's instinct, Jonathon. That was my son barking into the phone." She pushed on in the face of his skepticism. "We've been thinking about searching for a wolf, but Pete admitted it was dark in the store and that they only saw the 'wolf' for a few seconds. He's just as likely to be a dog."

He didn't look swayed, but he did offer, "I'll drive you over."

"Actually, Lex is sending a car for me. I'd like it if you'd look for Clark along the other routes into Smallville. Starting with the County Farm road junction." If she was wrong, he could be anywhere.

"Am I looking for a dog or a boy?" He stood, and she knew he'd be looking for both, whether he believed in her theory or not. "Pete, would you like to help me, or are you going back into town to help Chloe?"

"She's just sitting at the Talon with Lana, waiting for Clark to show." Pete rose as well. "I'll go with you. Two pair of eyes are better than one."

"And be careful. Lex said he had a bit of a problem dealing with a cat."

Jonathon's expression was a priceless combination of surprised and skeptical. "Cats?"

"Anything's possible in Smallville. I love you, you wonderful man." She pulled Jonathon down to press a quick kiss to his cheek before leaving. "Leave a note for Clark, in case he comes home?"

"I'll do it. I have a message from Chloe," Pete offered. "She's picked out his costume for Halloween; he's not just in the doghouse with her, she has plans to buy him a leash and a tracking device."

* * *

There was something to be said for canine hearing. Clark had recognized his mother's voice even before Lex had said 'Mrs. Kent.' By the time Lex concluded the call, Clark's tail was thumping against the floor in front of Lex's desk hard enough to put a dent and several cracks in the marble. He laid over it quickly, but Lex's sharp gaze stayed on him long enough for Clark to worry.

Eventually, Lex nodded. "Looks like the cat didn't hurt you after all." A maid entered through a side door, carrying a bowl of water. She looked inquiringly at Lex, who pointed toward the fireplace. Like a character out of a bad historical romance, she set the bowl down and stayed bent over, her head turned to give Lex a coy look. Her breasts nearly fell out of the top of her uniform.

The puppy ambled over to investigate and Lex joined it at the maid's side. The smile he turned on the maid fell under the classification of a leer, one that died as a low, menacing growl filled the air. The sound abruptly stopped when Clark realized it was coming from him.

It served its purpose, however. The maid was quickly excused, and Lex's attention was once more squarely on Clark. A very large part of Clark wanted to move to join Lex and the puppy, but to do so would have left the damaged floor open to scrutiny. Clark wasn't nearly lucky enough for Lex to miss so sizeable a demonstration of power.

In this form, it wasn't very likely that Lex would connect anything Clark did back to the things he did when he was a boy- or an alien. But Clark wasn't exactly in control of his changes, and he couldn't predict when he'd finally change back - or that he would at all - but Clark was trying to stay positive.

Lex picked the pup up, and it responded to Lex's care with gratitude and warmth, quivering with excitement. Even when Lex's fingers grazed the claw mark on its side, it did little more than flinch and whimper quietly.

"I'm going to clean this wound," Lex said, his voice filling the stillness of the room. "The veterinarian will take care of it when he arrives, but I'd like you to be cleaned before then. Before Martha Kent arrives, if at all possible. I'd hate for her to think my hospitality lacking."

He turned his head and his gaze caught Clark's again. "Both of you. It would be too much to ask that you bathe yourself and you're too big for me to wrestle you into a tub. I should have had Enrique take care of you."

His eyes returned to the pup, his hands moving easily from administering aid to simple petting. In return, the puppy relaxed into his lap, its eyes closing.

"I don't make a habit of rescuing strays, even when the payoffs are so pleasant." He was looking at the door through which the maid had exited, but Clark would have wagered his meager allowance that Lex's attention was really on him and nothing else. "It's not something I would ever have done before arriving in Smallville, but this town has a way of changing people."

He flashed his teeth in a vague facsimile of a smile. Clark's hackles rose.

Then Lex's expression smoothed out as his attention turned toward the glass doors that opened onto the back gardens. "Storm's coming in." As if urged on by Lex's observation, the wind outside picked up.

The rear grounds stood out in stark relief for a moment, but Clark's eyes quickly caught and were held by the green sheen of feline irises at the edge of the yard, where the grass began to grow wild.

The cats had caught up with them.

* * *

Chloe swallowed the dregs of her coffee just as Lana was putting a fresh cup down in front of her. "Maybe you should call," Lana suggested kindly.

"Yeah," Chloe agreed. "May I use your phone?"

"Of course." Lana moved away to talk to one of the waitresses, and Chloe stood up, coffee in hand.

What Chloe had found was that they were half right. Lana didn't have a new boyfriend, but Lex was back in town, and judging by the dirt and spots of blood on his clothes, there had been trouble. The stray dogs in his car were cute and definitely in need of a rescue, but it was doubtful that Clark had anything to do with them.

When Chloe had asked, Lex had claimed he hadn't seen Clark since Friday. He had been in Metropolis when they'd left that morning for Grandville, and she thought he was probably telling the truth.

"Kent Farms." Chloe had hoped for Martha Kent, but her husband would do. It would have been even better if Clark himself had answered.

"Hi, Mr. Kent. Has Clark come home yet?" It was better to get right to the point.

"Not yet. No sign of him on your end?" He didn't sound hopeful.

She flopped down in the chair behind the desk. "No. Lex Luthor came through half an hour ago, looking a little rough, but he hadn't seen Clark either."

"Martha's on her way over to the Luthor place now," Mr. Kent said. "He said something about rescuing dogs."

"He had them in the car when he passed through here. Beware the cats, I guess." She paused, a thought occurring to her. "You don't suppose the cats of Smallville are... changing, do you?"

Mr. Kent's laugh was rough and humorless. "I hope not. Though, this is Smallville, as Martha reminded me not too long ago."  



	2. Shopping like... the wolf?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martha and the cats reach the mansion (though not at the same time). Lex exposes himself to keep his friends safe, and Clark just exposes himself.

Enrique rapped on the study door in warning before opening it. Lex didn't have time to scramble off the floor. The butler's look was stoic as he announced, "Mrs. Kent is here to see you, Mr. Luthor."

Lex looked at his lapful of puppy and decided that dignity was highly overrated in the face of the pup's affection. "Send her in." The bigger dog was still sitting in front of his desk. It had been still for the past several minutes, its gaze on the storm outside, but now it looked back into the room, its tail wagging excitedly as if it knew they had a visitor.

"As you wish, sir." He backed out, and Martha entered a moment later. She took two steps into the room, enough to clear the door, and then stopped. Behind her, Enrique closed the door.

"I'm sorry for my lack of a proper greeting, Mrs. Kent, but-" His lack of manners was nothing on what the adult dog could do. It charged at Martha, surprisingly fast. Lex started to rise, worried about the creature knocking her over or hurting her, but it came to an abrupt heel when it reached her and sat.

"This is the dog?" she asked, her voice sounding tight. The dog's tail thumped against the floor as it sniffed at her shoes. Martha squatted down and put both hands on its head, holding it still and forcing its face up. "Oh."

The pup whined at being put back on the floor, but Lex ignored it as he got his feet under him. He grabbed the clean button-up from the pile Enrique had brought earlier and moved to Martha's side as he put it on. "You know him?"

Her expression turned instantly guarded. "I know where he belongs, I think. I'll have to check with Jonathon." She petted the dog with loving strokes before standing back up. "I can take him home until we find his owners."

A small, petty voice in Lex's mind told him to refuse her offer. The dog was of some kind of importance. With the normal Smallvillian luck, it probably had something to do with Clark's latest disappearance. She and her husband would take the dog and hide it from Lex, and-

"Of course, Mrs. Kent." Since he'd found the dogs together, he had assumed they were owned by the same person. Her attitude suggested otherwise, but he closed the lid on his paranoia. "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

Where the Kent men seemed never to see too deeply into Lex, for which he was mostly thankful, Martha Kent always saw too much. "Lex, Thank you. I-"

He interrupted her. "It's my pleasure." Hearing Clark lie was bad enough, but deceit from the virtuous Martha Kent was the last thing Lex wanted. He knew when to make a strategic retreat, if she would only let him.

She put a hand on his shoulder. "Thank you."

The big dog growled, and Lex pulled away, remembering its reaction when he'd gotten too close to Melanie earlier. To his surprise the dog wasn't looking at him and Mrs. Kent at all. It had turned towards the exterior doors again.

Lex looked up in time to see the glass shatter as several small, dark shapes broke through it. Mrs. Kent made a startled noise, and Lex stepped between her and the cats infiltrating the room. "Run," Lex said, pushing Martha toward the door.

She reached down for the pup before obeying. Lex tried to get the bigger canine out the door, but it took a protective stance between him and the cats, hackles rising as its growl filled the room. The cats seemed equally focussed on the dog.

He tried to grab it around the neck, but as he stretched his arms out, the dog began to change. In a matter of seconds, its body had shrunk into the narrow, sleek form of a cat. Its growl rose to hiss.

"Lovely parlor trick," he muttered aloud. Picking up the cat was surprisingly easy. Lex ignored the scientist in him that wanted to take a moment to think about conservation of mass and energy. He slammed the study door on the cats and headed up to his office, the shape shifter cradled in his arms.

The real mystery to focus on was a shape shifter that had Martha Kent calling on Lex when her son was missing. It really wasn't hard to put together two and two. Or perhaps that wasn't a mystery at all, as Lex was pretty sure he had the pieces of that puzzle in the right place.

Martha balked when he tried to lead her toward the panic room. "Where's... the dog?"

"The dog is now a cat." The creature in question hissed and Lex looked down the hall in the direction he wanted to head. There were more cats there. "And now is really not the time to have this discussion. My office is upstairs."

This time when he put a hand on Martha's elbow, she allowed him to lead her up the stairs. His office wasn't as secure as Lex would like, but it housed his gun and the door connecting to the hallway was a heavy, solid oak. It helped that it was on the second story and the windows leading into it were high off the ground. The vents were possibly problematic, but he was fairly confident that the cats couldn't get into them.

Lex made sure the office door was firmly closed and locked before he put the cat down and strode to the portrait that hid his safe. He was in the middle of spinning the dial when he heard Mrs. Kent gasp. He glanced at her long enough to see her scooping the shape shifter into her arms, the pup set down and apparently forgotten.

The dial was spun to thirty-eight, back to nineteen, and then Lex opened the safe door. Martha sidled close to him as he slid the ammunition clip into the gun. "What are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet. Barricade the door." The panic room was out, with the downstairs and the hallway taken over by the cats. The best choice seemed to be to continue moving up. "On the third floor, I have a- a secondary panic room." He hadn't created it with that purpose in mind, but his Room of Kent would work.

The cat twisted from his mother's grasp and jumped onto Lex's shoulder. He nearly dropped the gun as the furry head butted against the underside of his chin. Its purr vibrated all the way through his shoulder and down his back.

Martha reached for it, but Lex waved her off and put his free hand on its back in support. "I'm fine," he whispered into a pointed little ear.

Lex watched as Martha tried to compose herself again, her hands falling back at her sides. Her gaze remained on the cat for a long period, until the puppy whimpered for attention, protection.

She bent down, and then they were both holding onto animals, and Lex stomped down very hard on the urge to laugh. "I hate cats," he murmured. The one clinging to his shirt mewed as if in protest, and Lex ran his fingers comfortingly behind its ears. "Generally. With a few exceptions." Like cats that were sometimes-dogs and most-of-the-time-humans.

The sound of claws scratching on wood reached them, and Lex looked narrowly at the door. It was a thick door and under normal circumstances, Lex would think it a sufficient barrier from cats. But Smallvillian cats? Cats that attacked shape-shifting superdogs and won?

"The room should be safe. It's not a very proactive stance, hiding and waiting, but at this point, I think I'd rather wait for my father's security detail to remember their jobs." Unless his father had somehow orchestrated this, but cats really weren't Lionel's _thing_.

He looked up at the mezzanine level. With the cats right outside in the hallway, and so many other doors on the third floor open, it was possible that whichever way they tried to go would have cats.

"How do we get there?" Martha asked, her voice growing impatient. The scratching at the door kept getting louder, or so it seemed. Lex had doubts about its continued stability.

He waved a hand in the general direction and the cat jumped off his shoulder. "The mezzanine level opens up two doors down from... another room. It's lead-lined. Again, safer than here, and hopefully, that hallway will be cat free."

"Let's go." She settled the pup in the crook of her arm. "Is there a hidden staircase?"

Their feline companion moved to the door that led up. Lex joined it. The cat sped past him when he opened the door, disappearing around the corner at the top of the narrow stairs. He gave Martha a carefully blank look. "I think our protector has deemed this route safe."

Her smile was tight. "Seems so." He let her precede him, then shut the door securely behind him. Martha had already opened the door onto the third floor hallway by the time he crested the steps. "Which way do we go?"

"Left. Second door on your right." He shifted the gun to his right hand and put his left in his pocket, fingers closing securely around the key. "Let me go first; it's locked."

Martha moved to the side and let him into the hallway. The shapeshifter trailed beside Lex, then took up a stance in the hall between the doors. The room was dark when Lex opened the door, and he waved Martha back for a moment. "Be careful. There are steps just a few feet inside."

She'd find out soon enough what the room housed and the hallway was no place for that discussion.

Clark moved to join them, then stopped. He let out a plaintive meow, then backed away. "Come on, kitty," Lex cajoled. The cat shook its head again, green eyes gleaming up at Lex. "Clark?"

The cat was still for a moment, then it shot off down the hall in a streak of dark fur. It felt painfully like a rejection. Lex cursed and shut the door once Martha had joined him. He flicked the light switch on. He didn't want to face her as she took in the room. He walked down the steps and circled around the podium with the meteor rock sample. Catching Martha's eye, he put the gun on the podium and then stepped away, his hands up.

She watched him with wide eyes, her face pale. Then she slowly took the stairs toward the center of the room, her gaze taking in the room's contents. And it's meaning, most likely.

Her mouth opened, but it took her a few attempts to form words. "You-"

"I'm curious by nature. The closer someone is to me, the more dangerous they are, Mrs. Kent. It's very rare that I let anyone too close without knowing everything about them." He moved to the computer with the model of the bridge accident. "Those with the most secrets to hide are... well, I thought they were the most dangerous."

"How long has this been here?" She edged closer toward the gun, and against his better judgement, Lex moved farther away. He knew how close Jonathon Kent had come to removing the threat of Roger Nixon himself, and he had no doubt that Martha Kent had enough steel to do the same to him, friendship not-withstanding.

"A year. Longer. Nixon gave me quite a few of the better pieces." He pointed to the computer, then some of the photographs of Clark 'in action.'

She hesitated, one hand reaching toward the podium. "You've had this all that time, and you haven't used it?"

Lex looked at his collection again. Yes, some of it was damning, but none of it could be 'used' in any meaningful way. Not without endangering Clark. Which he supposed was the point of the question. "Clark's my friend, Mrs. Kent."

Her laughter, bitter-tinged, was unexpected. "This isn't friendship, Lex. This is obsession. One that's very dangerous to my son." Her hand finally made contact, not with the gun, but with the meteorite. Her gaze never wavered from Lex's. "You could hurt him."

"Never on purpose," Lex promised. "I just wanted to ~know~~."

"Oh, Lex," she said, her voice somewhere between exasperated and angry. Her eyes shifted to the meteorites. "This hurts Clark. All the rocks in Smallville hurt him. And sometimes, people who have spent too much time around the rocks become infected in a way that does more than change them. It becomes a part of them, to the point where Clark can't get close to them without being hurt."

The pieces slotted in quickly, fragments of memory. "Earl Jenkins."

"Tina Greer," Martha said, making the name sound like an agreement.

Lex drew a deep breath. "The cats of Smallville. Damn it!" He moved forward, and then stopped as she picked up the gun. She held it by the barrel, handle toward Lex. "Is there anything else I should know? A way to stop him from turning into a snake or a weasel?"

"I don't know." Her voice was weak, and Lex knew his disappointment showed in the seconds before he could control it. Her hand covered his. "It's new, Lex. It's probably something to do with meteor rocks somewhere, and if I knew how to get my son back, I would."

"Okay." He looked at her, then leaned in and brushed her cheek with a kiss. "Thank you, Mrs. Kent."

Martha didn't stop him until he was halfway up the steps. "Where are you going?"

"Clark is probably out there, trying to protect us from a danger that can hurt him more than us. I'm going to even the odds." He gestured to the room. "I won't argue your label on this. I've used it myself. But it doesn't change how I feel about your son."

* * *

Pete sometimes had trouble dealing with Clark's secrets, especially the things that could hurt Clark, the things that could go wrong unless they found him. Meteor-enhanced bug boys, shape shifters, people stealing Clark's powers. The meteorite itself. Rocks. Rocks weren't supposed to be dangerous unless you threw them.

"He'll be okay," Mr. Kent said. Pete looked at him across the width of the truck cab, then put his focus back on the wall as they backed out of the barn. "I know we're all scared because of the last time, but Clark said he was staying, and I trust that."

"But what if it's not his idea to go?" asked Pete. He wished for the words back as soon as he'd said them. The reality of Morgan Edge was still a little too close.

Mr. Kent was silent for a while. "Then we'll just have to trust that Clark wants to stay enough to fight."

Pete nodded, but he didn't buy into the Kent optimism, at least not when it wasn't Mrs. Kent doling it out. Still, he wasn't going to rain on anyone else's parade, if they wanted to believe. "And Clark's a fighter."

They turned in the yard before Mr. Kent turned the truck toward the road. They were about to turn onto Hickory Lane when Pete thought he saw something just out of reach of the headlights. Twilight would never be anything less than creepy in Smallville, and Pete had developed a pretty good eye for weird shadows.

"Stop the truck," he said. He was out the door before Mr. Kent had turned off the engine, but the old man was at his side quickly, flashlight at the ready, as he reached down and picked up a bundle of familiar clothes. "It's a shirt and pants." The ground was dry, but the tracks were easy to follow. "Wolf?"

Mr. Kent walked a distance away. "Yeah. And cats. Several of them."

"Well, at least now we know he was coming home," Pete said. Mr. Kent didn't look reassured. "So, do we follow the tracks?"

"No. He must have been running, then slowed down. The tracks begin, circle around a bit, then disappear again."

Pete followed as Mr. Kent returned to the truck. "Almost like he was flying, huh?" Clark kept getting faster and faster. On the way into Smallville, Pete reflected that that was one of the advantages of knowing Clark's secret. If Clark learned to fly, he'd totally take Pete with him.

Assuming he stuck around and wasn't kidnapped or going crazy in Metropolis.

Chloe was waiting for them on the sidewalk in front of the Talon. Most of the other shops along the street had closed for the night, but the Talon's lights were a beacon in the darkness.

She didn't wait for Pete and Mr. Kent to get all the way out of the truck before she started. "All the cats at the Humane Society disappeared yesterday morning. Dogs all over town have gone missing," she said, her voice saying very clearly how worried she was about a possibly wolfy Clark.

Mr. Kent slid back behind the wheel. "You two need to stay here."

Pete took one look at Chloe's face, and knew exactly what his fate would be if he stayed. He grimaced.

Thankfully, she was still focused on Mr. Kent. "You don't understand. There are like forty cats out there with a taste for canines. This isn't Clark's normal brand of heroism."

"I think it is, Chloe. Why not help the dogs the same way he helps the people?" Pete countered, still holding the passenger door of the truck open. "Do you want company, Mr. Kent?" Please, he didn't add.

"No. Why don't you both go inside? Call the mansion, see if Martha has arrived." Mr. Kent shut the door, then rolled down the window as Chloe tapped at it impatiently. "Yes?"

She looked worried. "People might be in danger, too. Lex took two dogs home with him. If these cats are tracking down every dog in Smallville, it's likely they'll end up there, too."

"All the more reason to call Lex and Martha." He started the engine and pulled carefully away from the curb, then hit the gas.

Chloe turned to Pete. "Okay. You and I, we're going to figure out this cat situation." She crossed her arms. "And on the way, you can tell me what the Kents had to say."

She turned and headed for her car without giving Pete a chance to respond. He followed, wishing he had superspeed of his own so he could disappear. Maybe he'd run into Clark speeding over the countryside; mystery solved, crisis averted.

"Get in!" Chloe called, already buckling her seat-belt before he'd opened his door.

* * *

The cats were still on the second floor when Clark circled around. He'd gone through a window on the third story and entered through the broken glass of Lex's study. He'd used the hole the cats had scratched through the bottom of the door and then followed his nose to where the cats had convened in the second floor hallway.

From the pup, Clark had figured out that while his mind seemed to be his own, his brain had changed enough to understand at least the basics of canine communication. The cats were easier to understand, but that discovery wasn't very comforting. The cats were easier to understand because they were smarter and _telepathic_.

Clark had wanted their attention, though he hadn't thought to get it by thinking too loud. The ideas, because the signals assailing his brain couldn't quite be called words, came quickly. Cats, shelter, food with glowing bits. Human overlords, dog oppressors, and feline freedom?

He tried forming his thoughts in a similar manner; humans as friends, dogs as friends, cats-

It felt like a steel beam being knocked into his side. Clark hadn't seen the large Persian behind him because he'd been focused on the group in front. It was the biggest of the cats and thoughts dug into his mind with the same tenacity as its claws in his side. Might made right, and in this particular group of cats, size mattered.

The Persian left Clark bleeding and bruised on the floor, his side heaving in a combination of surprise, fear, and pain. He'd been hurt before, but never so quickly or effectively. The kryptonite claws definitely were one of the most dangerous weapons he'd ever come across.

Believing him to be down for the count, and Clark would have been if he were just a cat, the others continued their assault on the door to Lex's office. It put them just three doors away from Lex and Clark's mother.

By the time Clark had shaken off the effects of the attack, the cats had invaded the office and bypassed the door to the mezzanine in favor of using the various bookcases and shelf ledges to go directly to the third floor. Two doors left.

Clark used his x-ray vision to scan the surrounding rooms. He had a better idea of how to control his new, and hopefully temporary, ability to shape shift. He'd thought about testing his theory out with Lex or his mother, but the kryptonite in Lex's hidey-hole hadn't been conducive to that.

He needed to find a way to drive the cats way, and he needed to do it in a way that didn't require him to get up close and personal with them again. He found his answer was on the ground floor.

There were no windows into the room. He jumped up at the knob, caught it in his paws, and managed to twist his body enough to get the door open. Inside was a nightmare of taxidermy. Bear heads and antelope, fish, and even a raccoon on the far wall. Clark's sense of smell picked up the must of ages, as well as the individual scents of the animals. He followed one to a back corner, where a large form was partially shrouded in darkness.

He gave the figure a feral grin.

* * *

Doubt seeped deepest when Martha was alone. Her worries about Clark had always been shared with Jonathon, a burden borne by the both of them. She knew she was strong enough to handle things by herself; she'd proven it many times in her life. Left alone in the room Lex had devoted to them, to _Clark_ , she couldn't help but question her decision.

Lex knew so much more than he was supposed to, and instead of acting to safeguard her son and her family, she'd given him more information. She and Jonathon had expressly forbidden Clark from revealing himself and she had now done it for him.

She hugged the puppy tighter to her chest. It had fallen asleep, apparently unconcerned by the cats. She was surprised her anxiety hadn't kept it awake.

On a side wall was a large photograph of Clark, blown up until his head was nearly life-sized. His eyes, tinged with red, burned into the distance.

If it hadn't been for the showcase of his ability, Martha could almost imagine the picture's presence to have a different meaning. Perhaps, she thought, for Lex, it was both.

He'd called it friendship, but had conceded to her label of obsession, which meant he'd considered it from that angle before. Friendship, obsession. It could have been about Clark's powers, but Lex had been too interested in Clark when he had no reason to wonder about the things her son could do.

His interest had been prurient, she was sure. Friendship, obsession, lust. She knew enough of Lionel and Lex to know that things were seldom what they seemed to the Luthor family.

Earlier that day, she had tried to ease Jonathon into the idea that her son might have feelings for Lex that went beyond friendship. At the time, she had thought that Clark would need someone to talk to when he realized it himself and his father had always been his closest confidante. She'd wanted Jonathon to be there, should Lex reject him.

She hadn't honestly given a thought to what his acceptance would mean. It hadn't seemed as probable as the alternative. She knew better, now. The only question was whether he really wanted her son, or just his secrets.

Had she made things better or worse, then, by giving Lex some of the answers he so obviously wanted? If they gave him Clark's origin, his heritage, and all his powers, would he still want _Clark?_

Friendship, obsession, lust. How far was it to love, when you were a Luthor?

* * *

The trip to the Luthor Mansion was fast, even in the darkening gloom of night. The gates were open, though the car that must have been sent for Martha was nowhere to be seen. He wasn't sure if he wanted her to still be on her way, or somewhere in the safety of the mansion.

Jonathon tried the handle on the front door when there was no answer, but it was locked. Cursing, he ducked back into the rain and around the mansion toward the kitchen. The kitchen door was open and the room itself had been torn apart. Jonathon swallowed hard at the sight of cat tracks through a flour spill and flicked the shotgun's safety off.

He'd been at the mansion before, but not often enough to become familiar with the path from kitchen to anywhere in particular. Instead, he followed the trail of floury paw prints. He passed by a door with a hole at the bottom, but it was empty. The scene inside still made his heart race.

A fire crackled in the hearth, the only cheerful thing in the room. The glass doors leading outside were shattered, shards littering the floor. There was a large dent in front of the desk. There was a bowl of water and a blood-stained rag next to it. It was obvious Lex and his rescued dogs had been here. There was a dirty, discarded shirt and a clean pair of pants under Martha's purse. At least he knew she'd arrived at the mansion.

Jonathon headed back out. The trail led up the stairs to another broken door. There was blood on the floor, along with tufts of fur. Jonathon was about to open the door when a gunshot went off on the floor above him. He headed back towards the stairs.

The scene he found was inexplicable. There were the cats, as he'd expected, standing as a group about fifteen feet away. At the other end of the hallway, Lex stood with a gun in hand, though it was aimed at the ceiling. A warning shot, then, though it hadn't worked to frighten the cats away.

There were too many to shoot, Jonathon could see that. Even with two guns, the men were outnumbered. "You shouldn't be up here," Lex said. His eyes stayed on the cats, and it took Jonathon a long moment to realize Lex was talking to him.

"My family is here," he retorted. As one, the cats turned toward him, mouths opening in a simultaneous hiss. They stood up as one, then backed away. Jonathon felt the hair at the nape of his neck stand up. Maybe Lex hadn't been talking to him.

There was silence behind him, but it was the heavy kind. With trepidation, he turned.

A large, feline body slinked out of the shadows at the end of the hall. "You have to be kidding me." He aimed his barrel at the lion approaching. "Where on God's green earth did you come from?"

He nearly jumped out of his skin when a familiar hand came down on his arm, but the gun didn't go off. The lion stopped in its tracks. Jonathon looked at Martha and she smiled. "Not Earth, Jonathon. Look at his eyes."

There was a shimmer, not a glow, as the lion sat back on its haunches and regarded them. "That's-"

"Clark." Lex's voice shouldn't have been a shock after everything else. Jonathon blamed it on his nerves being shot after all the worrying he'd been doing. "The cats are retreating."

Jonathon lowered his shotgun. "Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on?"

Lex smirked, an incongruous look on a man pressed tight against a wall. "Halloween week in Smallville." His tone and expression made Jonathon's finger twitch on the shotgun, but Martha pulled him aside before he could shoot off a toe by 'accident.'

* * *

By the way Martha and Jonathon both looked at Lex as they talked, it was easy to surmise that he was the topic of conversation. Their discussion continued as Lex turned away and made his way down the hall. The lion padded sinuously beside him. It was rather surprising, given the short amount of time Clark had been in this form, to see him moving so gracefully. It was as if he'd finally found a body that fit.

"I believe my father would approve of this form," Lex said with studied nonchalance. Clark's tail swished and caught him in the back of the knees with enough force to threaten his balance. "Ah, so you weren't seeking my father's approval. My apologies."

His study was still mostly in one piece. He tugged at his shirt sleeves as he sat down on the sofa facing the door. The Kents would catch up with them eventually. Clark sat down on the floor at his feet. Or, actually, partly on his foot, though the big feline kept enough weight off of him to avoid crushing it.

"Have you heard of the Nemean lion, Clark?" Clark tilted his head, his mane dragging against Lex's pant leg. "I'll take that as a no. The father of the lion was a great beast who sent it to Nemea, where it wreaked havoc upon the populace. Heracles was sent to slay the lion as his first task.

"To his surprise, the creature's skin was impenetrable, and he could pierce it with neither arrows nor sword." With a slow, careful gesture, he worked his fingers into the mane. It was as soft as he imagined Clark's hair to be, the silky strands sliding against his skin. "Not that it stopped Heracles from killing the lion, however. He strangled it, then used its own claws to retrieve the pelt."

Green eyes flitted over his face, and Lex was struck again by how familiar they felt. It made sense, of course. Clark was still Clark, no matter the body housing him. That his eyes hadn't changed as one animal or another seemed reasonable. Or as reasonable as rampant shape-shifting could be.

The change, as before, was quick. It didn't quite seem to hurt. Clark's face was tense, but Lex had seen him in real pain, and this wasn't it. Their eyes locked and held through the entire exchange, until Lex's fingers were wound in the short, dark strands of Clark's hair. When it was over, the boy pressed his face against Lex's knee.

He was naked, which Lex found interesting in a way that had nothing to do with science. Clark was all golden, sun-kissed and warm. He raised his face to look at Lex, eyes questioning. "Welcome back to being bipedal," Lex murmured.

Clark started to smile, and then he looked down. He ripped something off his arm and threw it aside, then seemed to discover his unclothed state. His hands dropped to cover his lap as his head snapped back up. "Um."

Lex removed his hand from Clark's head and dropped it to his shoulder instead. Clark moved slowly, but he let Lex tug him to his feet, and he sat down at Lex's bidding. It was quite possible the most docile he'd ever been.

They weren't exactly of a size, but Lex did have the clothes Enrique had brought for him earlier. He handed Clark the pants and turned his back as he took off the clean shirt and handed that over as well.

He moved away under pretense of looking at the damage wrought by the cats. When he glanced over his shoulder, Clark was already dressed. Or as closed to as he could manage. The shirt was tailored to Lex and the material stretched tight across Clark's shoulders. He'd left it unbuttoned, and the lavender did quite well framing Clark's golden chest.

"That was fast," he remarked. "You're dressed and not an animal. How do you feel?"

"Naked." Clark's eyes met his and then darted away. "And I have the strongest urge to lick myself."

He opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by a call of motherly worry. "Clark!" Martha and Clark met in the middle of the room. "Oh, my sweet son."

It was probably for the best, as Lex really wasn't sure what would have come out of his mouth at that point, an offer to lick Clark himself or questions that went far beyond 'What's it like to be a lion?' and treaded closer to, 'Why do meteor rocks hurt you in ways they don't hurt other people?'

Jonathon Kent moved more slowly, his attention as much on Lex as on the reunion between mother and son. He seemed at a bit of a loss over the whole situation, and Lex was sure a lot of that uncertainty centered around him. That Lex hadn't been shot as soon as Jonathon had learned what Lex knew was a somewhat of a miracle.

"Mr. Kent, can I get your help for a moment?" he called out. He knew he couldn't lift the wooden monstrosity of a desk by himself. "I think it'd be prudent to move the desk farther from the wall."

He didn't mention the mini-crater in the floor, but he could tell by the increase in tension in the room that all three Kents saw it and knew exactly where it had come from.

Clark didn't look at either of his parents as he moved closer to Lex. With a shy glance at Lex, Clark gave what looked like a tug, his muscles barely bunching. The legs scraped across the floor with an ugly screech, before settling over the damage.

Lex bit down on the smile that threatened. It was one thing for Martha to offer him some of Clark's secrets, and quite another for the boy to drop the charade altogether. "Thank you, Clark." Lex smiled at him, and Clark's relief was palpable.

"We should be going home," Jonathon said firmly. He sounded like he was overcompensating, but Lex couldn't blame him. Given Martha's disclosures and Clark's various demonstrations, the normal rule of Kent secrecy wasn't just broken, it had been beaten bloody.

In the hall, there was the sound of running feet, and then his father's security detail filed into the room and fanned around the perimeter. "Mr. Luthor, are you okay?"

"You're a little late," Lex said dryly. "I'm fine." He waved a hand at the idiot blocking the doorway. "Mr. Kent would like to take his family home."

"Yes, I would." Jonathon regarded him for a long moment, then crossed the room. Lex held still as the man approached. "I'd like it if you'd come with us."

Lex felt his smile sharpen at the edges despite his best effort to keep it smooth. "Under other circumstances, Mr. Kent, I would gladly accept. Now, however, I have servants to find, a mansion to clean, and other things to look after."

Not to mention a puppy that had been abandoned somewhere in his house. Given how long it'd been indoors, there was probably a puddle to be seen to, as well.

Still, the demand in Jonathon Kent's expression couldn't be ignored. "As soon as things are dealt with here, I'd be delighted to join you and your family. I think there are some questions we could best answer together."

* * *

Chloe leaned back against the hood of her car and waited for Pete to come back outside. They'd gone back to the Kent farm, hoping to find one or more of the farmhouses inhabitants, but had come up empty.

She turned at the sound of Pete's tread on the steps. "Nothing. The note's still where I left it and the dishes are in the sink. I doubt anyone's been by since Mr. Kent and I left earlier."

"Hm." That was probably their cue to leave, but so far, they'd come up empty handed at the places Chloe had thought to investigate. "You know Lex's number."

"No," Pete said flatly. She cocked her head at him until he pointed toward the house. It's written by the phone. Shall I run and fetch it for you?"

"Yes," she said, even though she knew it would irritate him. He threw his hands up, but did as he asked. He came back out and rattled off the numbers as she keyed them into her mobile phone.

"Luthor," Lex answered.

"Do you always answer your own phone?" she asked.

There was a pause, then a slight chuckle. "I could ask the same of you, Ms. Sullivan. But to answer your question, I was simply the person nearest the phone. I presume you're calling about Clark?"

She waved at Pete to come closer. "Yeah. Have you heard from him?"

"From him and his parents. The Kents are currently en route to their abode. I'd suggest looking them up there in the morning." There was a muffled sound in the background, and Lex answered someone else, "Just put it on the desk."

"Thanks, Lex," she said. His goodbye was clipped short, and she had no doubt he'd completely forgotten about her before he put the phone down. "So, good news," she said to Pete. "They found Clark, and they're all coming home."

"And what's the bad news?" Pete asked.

She smiled at how well he knew her. "Clark's coming home, which means _here._ "

His answering smile was rather weak. "Let me guess. Our good news is Clark's bad?"

"You got it in one."

* * *

The drive home was steeped in an awkward silence. Clark looked out the window, though there wasn't much to see in the dark. Just the familiar fields and the cloud-covered sky.

His parents weren't speaking. Clark had heard enough of their earlier conversation to know why. He didn't know what the outcome would be. His father was angry to the point of bristling. His mother was so upset she'd shut down after seeing that he was okay.

When they pulled into the driveway and he caught sight of Chloe's car, he wasn't sure whether to be relieved or resigned. They'd have a ton of questions, or Chloe would, and he wouldn't be able to give her any answers that would actually explain anything.

To his everlasting relief, it was Pete who gave him the perfect excuse for his disappearance. "So, Clark, man, did you take care of those cats?"

"Uh, yeah," he said awkwardly. His mother greeted his friends and then went inside without inviting them inside. His father said nothing at all. Clark waited until the screen door had closed, leaving the three of them alone in the yard, before he apologized. "I'm sorry. I'm in a bit of trouble."

"You should be," Chloe practically yelled. Her fist sailed toward his arm and he dodged. Her frown deepened at the move, but she didn't try to hit him again. "What happened?"

Clark gripped the edges of Lex's shirt and tried to formulate a reply. Pete and Chloe both tracked the motion, and fear of having to answer questions about his outfit spurred him to speak quickly. "There were forty cats and wanted to rule Smallville. They sent all the dogs of Smallville to other towns. They didn't really hurt them, unless they refused to go."

He counted on Chloe's nature to ask how he knew what their plans. His attempt at distraction didn't work. "Those aren't your clothes."

"Ah, no." His face felt so hot, blush could probably be seen from outer face. "The cats, um, attacked me. Destroyed my clothes." Now the outfit in the truck would have to be given away. Or at least the shirt. Chloe would recognize it for sure. "Lex let me borrow another pair."

She looked skeptical, but Clark was getting rather used to her lack of belief. It barely stung. "He couldn't find you something that fit better?"

Okay, so maybe her words still packed a punch of their own. "You know, I'm sorry I worried you, but I'm okay. Everyone's okay, the cats are gone, and I'm tired. Good night."

"Hey, Clark, come on!" Pete put a hand on his arm. "We've been looking for you or hunting down the cat story all day. We're _all_ a little tired." He looked pointedly at Chloe. "We'll meet tomorrow, and we can all talk about this then."

Clark looked at Chloe, who shrugged back. "Fine. And I am sorry."

"So am I," she said grudgingly. She reached out to tug at an untucked tail. "You should tell Lex that purple isn't your color."

"I'll do that," he promised weakly. "Is anyone else out there looking for me?"

"Lana knows you're gone, but we kept it quiet like your parents asked. I'll let her know your okay. Don't be surprised if she stops out to see you tomorrow."

"Ah, yeah. I won't be around tomorrow." She gave him a sharp look and he held his hands up. "We're going to get the dogs back to their owners; I have to make sure the cats are taken care of; and I'd like to make sure the mess at Lex's is taken care of. There was a lot of damage caused while the cats were trying to get the puppy."

Her face took on a pinched aspect. "Right. I'll pass that along, too. That means you won't have time to sit down with me and answer questions for the article?"

He looked at Pete, but there was no more help coming from that direction. "How about I write up the skeleton of an outline on what happened tonight, and you can flesh it out?"

"Okay," she said, looking appeased. "Your mom's at the door. You better get inside. Are you coming, Pete?"

"Nah. I told my parents I was staying over here tonight."

"Fine. I'll see you boys on Monday, then." She started back toward her car, then turned. "But don't think you're excused from wearing a costume this Friday, Kent. I've already picked it out."

He smiled slightly. "As long as it covers more than I'm wearing now, I'll wear anything you give me, Chloe." He would, too, as that requirement eliminated loincloths from the options.

"Deal."

Clark and Pete waited until her taillights had disappeared before going inside. Clark's mother was waiting for them. "Your father went to bed. Pete, if you're staying, you can go ahead and take Clark's bed. The sheets are clean."

"Thanks, Mrs. Kent," Pete said. He gave Clark a _what-can-you-do_ look, and obeyed the implicit order.

She cupped his cheek. "You're practically an adult already."

He'd spent the past three years wanting to be just that, to get away from the crushing awkwardness of high school. For the first time in a long time, he wished to just be a kid again. Martha and Jonathon Kent's little boy.

"We need to have a talk," she said softly. "Your father and I are probably going to be discussing this for the next month, but there are things you need to know and understand. Choices you need to make."

* * *

Clark walked past the stairs to the little study from the night before. His x-ray vision told him Lex was there.

There was a bark of greeting and Clark leaned down as the pup ran up to greet him. It sniffed at his shoes, then put its paws on Clark's shins. He couldn't understand it, as he had the day before, but its desire was obvious. He picked it up and cradled it in his arms.

"I see Argus remembers you," Lex said. He leaned back in his chair, his elbows braced on the arm, his fingers steepled in front of him. The desk sat like a barrier between them, impenetrable.

"Yeah," Clark agreed. Surprise flashed across Lex's face. "My smell must be similar enough."

There was s a pause, a hesitation, that spoke volumes about what Lex had expected him to say. "Must be," Lex said slowly. He turned the chair sideways to the desk and stood. His hand trailed across the surface and came up with a familiar band. "I found your bracelet when you were gone."

Clark held his ground. Hopefully, the bracelet wouldn't change him unless he was both wearing it and staring into the eyes of something that wasn't human. "It's not exactly mine. Actually." He laughed somewhat hollowly as Lex approached. "It's kind of stolen. I was wearing it when I ran out of the shop."

"Interesting. The bracelet stayed while the rest of your clothes were left behind?" It was asked in a tone that said Lex already knew the answer. He held it up with both hands and stretched it out. "It is rather flexible, I guess."

"Yeah. Chloe pushed it up on my arm, and I think it was there the entire time." He hadn't thought about the bracelet until he'd returned to normal and it was the only thing on his body. "The rock on it, it seemed to glow. I think it might- I think it might be some kind of meteor rock."

Lex froze. Clark scored two in his mental tally. He'd spent so long lying to Lex, guarding his secrets, that he had come to expect nothing more. Proving him wrong was proving to be both relieving and amusing.

Unfortunately, it didn't look like Lex felt the same. His back was tense as he turned away from Clark and returned to the desk. He didn't hide behind it, but Clark thought that was probably some form of Luthor stubbornness that refused to allow him so obvious a defense.

"Does it hurt you?" Lex asked, his eyes scanning over Clark worriedly.

He put the score to two-to-one with the realization that the distance was for _him_ , not for Lex. "No. The changing didn't hurt, either. Felt weird, but it was nothing like the green." He looked down at the puppy, but didn't meet its eyes for long. "I don't know what kind of range it has, though. The green rocks don't hurt me if they're behind lead."

"I have a safe," Lex offered. He seemed torn between going immediately to take care of the bracelet and staying. His curiosity must have won out, because he dropped the bit of jewelry to his desk and stayed. "There are other kinds of rocks?"

"Green, furry. Red makes me a little crazy." Or a creep, depending on who was doing the telling. "Green's the most common."

Lex crossed his arms over his chest. "So, you were a dog and a cat and a lion."

Clark smiled and shrugged. "I was a wolf for a while, too. Chloe doesn't know any of this, by the way. She thinks the wolf was a messenger, a wild lassie, come to find me and ask my help with the cats. I haven't told her anything differently. Mom and Dad and Pete are working on a cover story."

"Pete knows, then." It was said calmly, but the hurt was there in his eyes.

 _Moment of truth,_ he thought. Clark set the puppy back on the ground and ignored its attempts to jump back into his arms. "Pete actually knows more."

Lex's face shuttered completely. "Is that so. You've been friends with Pete for a long time, that makes sense."

Clark smiled a little and closed the distance between them a few steps. "Pete knows because he found my spaceship in a field and I couldn't get him to keep quiet without confessing." He forced himself to keep Lex's gaze as he continued, even as Lex's breath caught and his eyes widened. "I mean, imagine how bad it would be for me if he'd tried selling it on Ebay?"

"It would probably be bad for you," Lex acknowledged. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. "It's actually rather dangerous for you that anyone knows."

"Yeah." Another few steps forward and Clark would have been able to reach out and touch Lex, but he didn't. He let the space remain. "It's a good thing, then, that the only people who know are my friends and family. People I trust."

He kept still as Lex searched his face, his eyes troubled. "Why me?"

"Well, that's actually another secret." He stubbed his toe and tried to reverse the flow of blood into his face, to no avail. "My parents know, but. They're my parents and I'm pretty sure they know everything." He tried a smile, but Lex's blank expression didn't inspire it to stay. "It's the last secret I have."

Lex searched his face, then nodded. "That's fine, Clark." He laughed, a sound that bordered on hysteria. "I don't- I can't quite believe you told me the rest of it."

Clark shook his head, refusing to be let off the hook. "This is something you should know. It's kind of your secret, too. You just don't know it yet." The fear building in his chest was different that he was used to, a mingling of the familiar. It took a bit of his dread of discovery and mingled with the anticipation of rejection.

"I don't know that I'm worth the secrets you've already given me." He moved and Clark closed the distance at last, effectively trapping Lex against the edge of the desk with his body.

"I'm sorry, if you don't want my secrets. I know they're dangerous. They make everyone worry, and I-"

"Stop," Lex commanded. He reached up as if to cup Clark's face, but his hands stopped short of contact and he dropped them to Clark's shoulders instead. "Stop. Your faith in me is a gift. One I don't think I deserve, but I'll accept it gladly."

It was difficult, forcing himself to nod and accept that. "And the last secret?"

"I'll accept anything you give me, Clark." The older man gave him a gentle smile. "If you trust me and you think I'm worth it, I'll accept it."

"I love you." He lifted his hands and clenched them lightly in Lex's shirt until the back of his knuckles pressed against Lex's abdomen. "I went crazy in Metropolis this summer and when I came home, there was no anchor here, nothing that felt right anymore. Until you came home, too.

"I'm not saying you can't-" Clark swallowed, unable to put the option into words. "But as long as you're here, I'd like to be around you. And with you, when possible, however you want me. Whatever role you want me in."

Standing so close together, it was impossible to miss the way Lex's breath sped up and became shallow. It was also impossible not to follow the path his tongue made as it licked across his bottom lip. "And if I really wanted you to put the bracelet back on so I could have my own pet lion?"

Clark frowned at him, taken aback by the idea. There was a twitch at the corner of Lex's mouth that seemed to want to be a smile, but Clark had to ask, "You're joking, right?"

"I am," Lex murmured agreeably. The hands on Clark's shoulder drew him closer. "But if I wasn't, would you do it?"

The answer was simple. "Yes."

Lex nodded and the smile was suddenly stretched into a smirk. He leaned against Clark's chest, his lips brushing against Clark's with a whisper of touch. "I might ask you to do impossible things, Clark."

"Like what?" Clark asked, his eyelids sliding shut. His senses became focused on his lips as Lex smoothed another soft kiss across them.

"I don't know, anymore." Lex's voice was muffled, the breath of his mouth heating Clark's lips. "Once upon a time, I would have said, 'love me.'"

"You're right. That's not impossible." Clark pulled him in until he could swallow Lex's words. "What's impossible for the combined forces of Lex Luthor and Clark Kent?"

Lex's expression was too soft for the amount of smugness that was in his voice. "You know? I can't think of anything at all."


End file.
